It’s funny that the symbolism of the dragonfly became such a huge part of my journey – especially my teaching journey – because it all happened almost by accident.

After my first visit to the SUI’s Sanctuary in Dublin, I was asked if I would come back and teach a workshop the next time I visited, making a weekend of it.

I had led a development circle before, but I’d never really considered teaching a workshop to students. It was exciting… and just a little daunting.

Back then – and still today – I often use the energy of music to support my work with Spirit.

The night before the workshop, I was sitting in my old bedroom at my mum’s house. I had the outline of the entire day planned, but there was a big gap in the middle. I needed one more exercise, and I was beginning to panic.

I started scrolling through my iPod (remember them?) looking for inspiration, and came across a track I’d never really paid much attention to before.

The moment I heard it, I knew I could use it to help the students expand their energy for working with Spirit. The rhythm was infectious, gradually building into a huge sweeping crescendo near the end. Even the title seemed fitting: Above.

What happened next though was unexpected.

As I listened, I found myself writing a story that unfolded perfectly in time with the music. It came so quickly and so effortlessly that it felt as though I was simply taking dictation rather than creating it.

The central character was a little dragonfly – a symbol I’d never felt any particular connection with before.

Then another idea came.

What if the exercise had a second part? A twist that built on everything the students had just experienced?

I became so caught up in it all that I didn’t get to bed until nearly three o’clock that morning…

The following day, the workshop was going really well, and eventually it was time for The Dragonfly.

At the end of the first part, everyone commented on how powerful it had been. You could already feel a shift in the atmosphere of the room.

Then I introduced the second part.

That was the moment it became something truly special.

By the end of the exercise, the energy in the room felt almost tangible. Students were visibly moved, and if I’m honest, so was I.

It certainly didn’t feel like something I had simply invented. I came away convinced that Spirit had played a massive part in bringing it together.

Over the years, I’ve repeated The Dragonfly in workshops across other countries, and it has always created a remarkably similar response. Considering it was almost a last-minute addition to fill a gap in a workshop, that still amazes me.

People still mention it to me today. They ask me for the name of the track again, or tell me they’ve never forgotten the experience.

Looking back now, The Dragonfly has become one of the cornerstones of my own spiritual journey. It has come to mean so much to so many people, and I’ve never really felt that it came from my imagination alone.

Even now, dragonflies have a habit of appearing just when I seem to need the reminder.

The first house I was ever going to buy had a dragonfly-shaped cupboard knob. As strange as it sounds, seeing it gave me an unexpected sense of reassurance and helped me feel safe enough to put in an offer.

And while helping my partner pack up his flat before moving house, I discovered a paper model of a dragonfly sitting on top of one of his kitchen cupboards. Finding it made me smile.

Whether those moments are coincidence or something more is for each person to decide.

For me, though, whenever I come across a dragonfly, it reminds me that I am safe, that Spirit is close, and that somehow, everything is exactly as it should be.